


Artless

by harryhanlon



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, M/M, sort of i guess
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-01-11
Updated: 2013-01-10
Packaged: 2017-11-25 01:42:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/633745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/harryhanlon/pseuds/harryhanlon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zayn's given up and Harry's new. Maybe they both just need a good friend to pull them through.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Artless

**Author's Note:**

> Hiya! This is my first Zarry fic and I wrote it in creative writing. I tried I guess. I don't own One Direction or anything, that'd be ridiculous. There's probably going to be another part sometime down the road.

Zayn woke up and hated the sun. The weather didn’t matter to him. Even if it had been the gloomiest day of the year, he would have hated it. Seeing the sun, the moon and the ever present stars just meant that he existed to witness them. He hated the feel of the carpet on his bare feet as he got out of bed and hated the shower floor for getting slippery when wet. Zayn hated that his hair always stuck on the sides and that his gel made his fingers sticky. But most of all, Zayn hated that he could hate so many things.

Existence was the root of his hatred.

It’s not to say that nothing had gone right for Zayn. He had a relatively good life with his mother, father and three sisters. They lived together and only had the occasional familial fallout. He had friends that participated in school sanctioned clubs and activities. On all counts, Zayn was living the supposed ‘teenage dream’ and he hated himself for not wanting it.

All he really had was art. Art was something he could pour his hatred and frustration into day after day. He drew people as he saw them, emotion dripping from their pores. Zayn observed his surroundings constantly, looking for inspiration. Other people were his outlet and they showed the feelings he couldn’t possibly express. He walked unseen among the rest, absorbing and creating without being noticed. It was the way he liked it.

Harry noticed. Harry saw him as soon as he stepped off of the bus on his first day from Holmes Chapel, gauging the social climate by observing the cliques that broke off. He saw him standing alone by the school doors, watching cliques just as he was, but somehow his stare seemed deeper. It was the kind of stare that knew all of your secrets but still asked permission to see them. Intrigued, Harry promised himself that he would find out more about this boy and his intense stares.

Zayn saw him later in the hallway. A new kid without a clue. Lost in the sauce of a class that had known each other since daycare. The kid looked like he could have left something like that at home and wished more than anything else to get it back. He was broken in a way that could be fixed with a good conversation and an invitation to a birthday party.

However, he was wrong. Harry might have been broken before, but the sight of a certain boy had him crawling back from the edge.

* * *

 

Hours later, Harry was still thinking about the boy with the deep stare as he walked into his first Chemistry class. He was so distracted that he didn't notice the boy himself sitting two tables down until the teacher started calling roll.

“Harry Styles?”

“Here,” he called, looking up from his class schedule. The teacher nodded in hello and moved along to the next names.

“Andrew Gibbs?”

“Here.”

“Hayden Jacobs?”

“Here.”

“Zayn Malik?”

“Here.” Something about that voice moved Harry to look around at the speaker. It was the boy. The boy with the stare was also the boy with the voice. He couldn't believe his luck in finally landing a class with someone he thought he could get to know. The boy, now Zayn, wiped his face with his dark leather jacket out of exhaustion and took out a notebook already covered in doodles. Harry watched him scribble in the margins of his notes until the room was called to attention.

“As you've probably seen on your schedules, I'm Mr. Dewey and I'll be teaching you Chemistry this year. Now if you all could please...” the opening speech faded to the back of his consciousness as Harry turned to look at Zayn again to find him staring back. He stood up quickly, breaking the eye contact and going to get a text book from the back of the class. His eyes resisted looking back over for the next forty minutes of class and he missed the occasional glances he garnered from Zayn.

* * *

 

Zayn walked into his art classroom after Chemistry, looking to finish a project he had started. It was a piece born of his frustration with the world, full of swirling black and blues around the faces of people stuck in a moment. He sat absorbed in the paint until the art teacher, Ms. Pepper, walked in. They had grown into an understanding friendship over the past year and Zayn was allowed to use the room whenever he needed to.

“Morning Zayn, still working on that piece?”

“Hi, yeah. I can't decide what kind of texture to use on this part.”

“You'll figure it out soon. You always do.”

They worked in companionable silence until the bell rang and the next period class drifted in. Zayn looked up as the boy from his Chemistry class walked through the door with wide eyes glued to the artwork adorning the walls. He was still a bit of a mystery to him, just because he was new and Zayn couldn't exactly place him like everyone else. Sure when he had first seen him it was easy to write him off as the same confused new kid the school gets every year, but as he watched through Chemistry there was something else lying underneath the surface. A personality just begging to be recognized.

Harry took the seat behind Zayn, trying to get close as inconspicuously as possible. His goal of becoming friends with this kid may not have been so far-fetched.

* * *

 

When the bell for lunch rang Harry let out a sigh. He didn't want to spend the year sitting alone and watching other people chat happily with their friends as he stared at his lunch. Walking through the doors he encountered exactly what he expected, a large white room with linoleum floors, full of kids he didn't know.

Harry saw his chance to change his fate as he approached the line and spotted a familiar face. Zayn held his tray of starchy pasta in one hand as he juggled his apple and bag of chips to try and open the drink refrigerator.

“Let me help you with that,” Harry offered his empty left hand to carry something.

“Thanks man,” Zayn said as he tossed the apple and chips in Harry’s direction. He got out a carton of chocolate milk and set in on the tray with his pasta. “Really appreciate that, dude. Hey, you’re in my chemistry class right?”

Harry was excited that he’d even been noticed let alone remembered. “Yeah, I am! I think I also struggle behind you in art?” He posed it as a question, but he was absolutely certain. They had art together and Harry struggled to draw a tree as Zayn painted sweeping landscapes at the teacher’s request.

“Oh yeah! You’re new aren’t you? From Wisconsin or something?”

“Yeah I am. My dad got transferred in August and dragged us all out here a month later. It was pretty abrupt so I haven’t seen much of the town.” He wondered if that was too forward. Too much, too soon.

“Really? Maybe I know someone who can show you around this place one day.”

They paid for their food and walked towards the general cafeteria area. Zayn looked around and noticed Harry walking towards an empty table with a lone backpack leaning against the chairs. His face twisted into sadness for the new boy with no friends and made a bold decision.

“Are you sitting alone?”

Harry looked confused, of course he was. “Yeah, I don't really know anyone that I could sit with.”

“You should come sit with me then. I think we've got room to spare.” He gestured towards Harry's backpack and turned to walk towards his table. Harry was speechless and surprised at the casualty of Zayn's offer. He squeaked a, “Thanks,” grabbed his bag and followed him down the aisles of the lunchroom.

The table already had five people chatting animatedly over what seemed to be a foot long ham sandwich lying in the middle

“I'm just saying we shouldn't have left Niall and Perrie to order the food! You know they'd eat anything as long as it could fit in their mouths,” a pixie faced boy argued, gesticulating wildly.

“Oi!” two blondes on the far end of the table piped up, possibly in their own defense.

“Oh you know it's true. Because of you two all we have to eat is this ham on bread with BARBECUE sauce! In what universe does that make sense?”

“Louis calm down,” said a soft looking boy with his arm around a thin girl with thick, dark curls. “We can go out and get food later, it's not a big deal.” His tone was admonishing but still light enough that it was all in good fun.

“Guys,” Zayn interrupted. “This is um, sorry I didn't catch your name this morning?”

“Oh, I'm Harry.”

“This is Harry and he's going to sit with us.”

The teens sitting at the table smiled and gave a cheerful wave, looking at Zayn expectantly as if they were waiting for something.

“Ugh, fine. So introductions then. Right here we have Louis Tomlinson, known for his bubbly personality and blue eyes. He's head of dance committee and will constantly remind you of school events.” He gave a small bow with a flourish of his hand to show he was satisfied with his description.

“Next up are two people that can only be presented as a couple. Liam and Danielle have been dating for four years and are expected to never break up.” The couple in question blushed but scooted closer together. “Danielle is the youngest captain of the dance team this school has ever had and Liam has been recognized as the nicest human being ever.”

“Shut up, Zayn.”

“Moving right along we've got Perrie. She has the ability to brighten any room with a flowery headband and a genuine smile. Like a cheerful infection, she is.”

“Oh dear, don't flatter me so much. He'll think I'm some sort of goddess.” She fluttered her eyelashes to emphasize her statement.

“Last but certainly not least is Niall! He's kind of useless, honestly. Unless you something to be eaten, he can't really help you out.”

“S'true. I'm really good at eating things,” the blonde shrugged but didn't seem troubled by the confession. Zayn turned to Harry and gestured toward the empty seat on his left.

“Welcome Harry. Welcome to hell.” Harry grinned and put his food on the table.  


End file.
